TOW Phoebe Believes
by SqutternutBosh
Summary: Intended to be the Christmas episode that Friends never had. Phoebe believes in Santa and Ross is out to prove her wrong... until he realises the possible consequences. He decides he'll need some help. Some love, some laughs and some wacky Phoebe theories
1. Guess Who's Coming On Christmas Eve

A/N: This is supposed to be the Christmas episode that there never was in Friends. To some of you it may seem a little early for a Christmas special. But, the idea was really bugging me to be written and this is going to be my first multi-chaptered fic, so I'll need time (which I won't have so much of in the lead up to Christmas). This is just the opening- set around season 8. Not sure when the next chapter will be up, but this will involve all of your favourite characters.

Disclaimer: Nope, not mine.

_Are you hanging up your stocking on the wall?- Slade, Merry X'mas Everybody_

Ross flicked on the light, bathing his living room in a yellow, artificial glow. He blinked a few times getting used to the sudden light that now surrounded him. He glanced at his clock, which read twelve minutes past one. In the morning. Whoever was at the door banged their fists on it once again, causing Ross to scowl. _If it's those damn kids_… he thought, _I'll show them some of my finest kara-tay…_

He crossed the short distance to the door and opened it reluctantly, to reveal Phoebe, stood in the hallway in her polka dot pyjamas. She beamed at him.

'Merry Christmas, Ross!' she greeted brightly. Her voice seemed loud in the silence of the building. Ross pulled her inside and closed the door.

'Phoebe, what are you doing here?' he asked tiredly.

'It's nice to see you too,' she said, sounding slightly offended.

'Yes, yes, it's great to see you here at this time in the morning. I couldn't have wished for anything nicer.'

'Aw. Thanks, Ross.'

Ross rolled his eyes as she completely failed to catch the sarcasm that practically coated his last sentence. 'You're welcome, Pheebs. Again, why are you here?'

'Well, it's Christmas,' she started.

'It is now,' Ross yawned, cutting across her. He nodded his head in the direction of the clock which now read thirteen minutes past. 'But, that still doesn't explain why you're here.'

'Well, if you would just let me finish,' she said, a little huffily. 'So, I was getting ready for bed and I was hanging up my stocking, when something suddenly occurred to me.'

'What?'

'Santa hasn't delivered me any presents since I was thirteen.'

'Right. Do you know why that is?' Ross said, a little sarcastically.

'Of course I do, what do you take me for- an idiot?'

'Far from it, Pheebs,' he muttered. 'I just thought that you still believed that Santa was real.'

'I do. He is real; he's just had his reasons for not leaving me presents for the past eighteen years.'

'So, you came over to tell me this at quarter past one in the morning? You woke me up- from a good dream in which I discovered the world's biggest dinosaur fossil- to tell me that Santa has been neglecting you?'

'Yes!'

'That's because he's not real, Phoebe!'

'Of course he is, you stupid jackass.'

'He isn't,' Ross insisted. 'How else do you explain why he hasn't brought your presents since your mom was still alive- and there to buy presents and pretend that Santa had visited?'

'If you would just listen, I could finish explaining what I suddenly realised!'

'That it was actually your mom who bought the presents and labelled them from Santa?'

'Why would she do that? She's not crazy, she believed in him too.'

'I'm not surprised.'

'Are you going to let me finish telling you my theory any time soon?'

'Fine, fine. Continue…'

'Okay. This is the _real _reason why Santa hasn't swung by my place in years. It's because I'm always at home when he comes and he can hardly leave presents while I'm there. I'm a very light sleeper.'

'Are you sure you haven't just been a naughty girl for all those years?'

Phoebe raised her eyebrows at him, her eyes wide. 'In what sense of the word?'

Ross sighed and rubbed his eyes. 'As in the I've-done-lots-of-bad-things-and-will-get-a-lump-of-coal-for-Christmas sense of the word.'

'Oh, good. If it was in the kinky sense that would explain it for sure…' she said, appearing to relax a little. 'And, I've been a good girl all year. I've done my bit for the world, haven't eaten any meat, helped Crazy Pete with his annual knife sharpening… what could possibly be bad about my year?'

'You tell me,' Ross said, meaning it rhetorically, but Phoebe launched straight back into her theory.

'I shall. So, to sum up, he can't leave presents because I might see him and he can't get caught or the elves will attempt to overthrow him for failing his duties.'

'Right. So, you think that if you're here, he can stop by and leave you a present.'

'Now you're catching on!'

'Then, how does he visit everybody else and not wake anybody up? I mean, parents would surely notice if a fat guy in a red suit started creeping around their house in the middle of the night.'

'Yes, but they know he's coming.'

'So do you,' Ross pointed out.

'But, I'm not a parent. I'm not supposed to be in on the secret,' Phoebe said exasperatedly, as if she was explaining the obvious to someone who found it painfully difficult to understand. 'Santa drops off the presents somewhere convenient and then the parents check they're right, wrap them and stick them under the tree.'

Ross was beginning to get fed up.

'He's not real, Phoebe!'

'He is; you've just got to believe!'

'There's nothing to believe in!'

'I have proof that Santa exists.'

'Okay. Tell me, Pheebs- how can you prove the existence of a fictional holiday character?'

'I saw him last year at Monica and Chandler's.'

'That was Chandler in a Santa outfit!' Ross said, his voice starting to get louder.

'I know that, he wasn't really fat enough to be Santa anyway… I meant I saw him through their window. In the sky on Christmas Eve, I saw blinking red and yellow lights. That can only be one thing- Santa's sleigh.'

'Sounds like a plane to me,' Ross mumbled under his breath. 'That's not proper proof… How do you explain this then; one guy flying around the world on one night. It's impossible, Phoebe!'

'Santa can use magic, dumbass.'

'Don't _even_ get me started on how ridiculous the notion of magic is,' Ross countered.

'Ugh, you're so stubborn and- and scientific!'

'I _am _a scientist, Pheebs.'

'Too right you are. Anyway, I'm staying here whether you like it or not. According to my calculations, Santa should hit New York at about four. And when I go home tomorrow morning to find a present from him under my tree, there will be your proof that Santa and his elves and his workshop in the North Pole really do exist, you Evil Scientist Man.'

'Then I look forward to seeing it… Only, non-existent things can be hard to see sometimes,' he said dryly. Phoebe glared at him.

'Only through the eyes of a sceptic,' she retorted and stomped off into his spare bedroom. She slammed the door. Ross ran a hand through his big bed hair and returned to his own bedroom.

He lay down on his bed and tried to get back to sleep, but one thing was bothering him. The woman next door to him really believed in this jolly Christmas character and she would take it really hard when she returned home the next morning to discover things exactly as she had left them. He wasn't sure what would hurt her most- the fact that she was wrong, or the fact that something she had so strongly believed in since childhood didn't actually exist. He sighed and sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed where his feet made contact with the cream carpet.

Fighting against his will to prove that he was right and what he felt was his duty as a good friend, he picked up the phone and began to dial.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the opening of this Christmas fic. I hope to complete it before Christmas. I'd also like to dedicate it to all of those who feel the Christmas Spirit all year round 


	2. Your Mission Is

So, here's chapter two and it's up and faster than I would have first thought. I'd like to thank all of those who reviewed the first chapter and anyone who has put this story on their alert list- thank you. A few personal notes to those who reviewed;

**Kate56:** Thanks for reviewing- again. I never had the chance to say thanks before. Good to hear that you're interested in this little fic, hope you enjoy this next chapter!

**DrKerryWeaver: **Thanks, I always try to grab reader's attentions in the opening chapter, good to know that someone liked it! Hope you like this chapter just as much (and why not, it has a hint of Mondler).

**Drama Queen Johnson: **Thank you, I'm glad you said that you thought they were in character, I think that's one of the most important things about writing fanfiction. Enjoy this next chapter.

**nannygirl: **Thanks, here's some more for you now!

Disclaimer: Funnily enough, they're still not mine. Just like in the last chapter!

'_It's the time that every Santa has a ball…' Slade, Merry X'mas Everyone_

Something was ringing. Monica opened her eyes blearily and blinked in the darkness. It couldn't be her alarm clock; it felt like she'd only just fallen asleep… She looked over at the bedside table where her clock was placed. Now a little more awake, she realised that the source of the irritating noise was actually coming from the phone just behind the clock. Beside her, Chandler groaned and muttered something incoherently. She reached out and picked up the phone.

'Hello?' she said, settling back into her pillow.

'Hey, Mon, it's Ross,' her brother's voice came faintly through from the other end of the line.

'Ross? What're you calling me for at two in the morning?' She demanded. 'This had better be important.'

'Tell him where he can stick his phone,' Chandler added.

'I heard that,' Ross said, his voice crackling out of the receiver.

'Good,' Chandler retorted. Monica rolled her eyes at the pair of them, although she agreed with her husband.

'What do you want?' she asked.

'It _is_ important,' he said, as if clarifying what she had said previously.

'Yes, but it'll stop being important when I hang up,' she told him.

'Okay, okay, here's the thing. Phoebe believes in Santa Clause.'

'I think we all know that, Ross.'

'Yes, I know, but-,'

'Well, if this is just about you not being able to believe in something you've never been able to prove then you really can stick your phone where-,'

'Ah, okay! I get it,' Ross cut over her. 'But she _really_ does believe in him. She's expecting him to bring her a present because she's been a good girl and she's not at home.'

'Then where is she?'

'She came over to my place about an hour ago, she's in the guest bedroom right now.'

'Then what's the issue?'

'She's going to be really upset when there's no extra present from Santa when she goes home tomorrow morning.'

'She'll be devastated… Wait a second, are you about to ask me what I think you're about to ask me?'

'If what you're thinking is that I'd like you to take a present over to Phoebe's and label it

"From Santa" before she goes home, then you'd be right.'

'As much as I enjoy being right- why can't you do it?'

'Because she's right next door, she'd notice if I suddenly got up and left. Also, I haven't

got a present.'

'And you think I have?'

'You'll think of something,' Ross brushed her off vaguely.

'How do yo-,'

'Will you do it?' he asked, interrupting her.

'Of course, yeah, but-,'

She was cut off by a buzzing noise as Ross hug up, sure that she would do what he had asked. With a slight sigh, she put the phone back down before throwing the covers off and sliding out of her warm bed.

She gave Chandler a nudge.

'Come on,' she said, shoving him harder. He cracked open one eye and watched as she began to throw on her clothes from the previous day.

'Mon, what?' he said, pushing himself up into a sitting position. 'What're you doing? Where're you going? This isn't because I said the chicken looked burnt is it?'

'No, but I'm still mad at you for that.'

'If it's any consolation it tasted delicious,' he said quickly. She gave him one of her looks.

'It's something. Now, get dressed, we've got a job to do.'

'Alright, now you just sound like the mob boss in a bad gangster film.'

'Just get dressed!'

'What for?' he asked again. 'Seriously, what did Ross want?'

'I'll tell you in a minute-_when you are dressed_,' she finished in a threatening tone.

'Yes, ma'am,' Chandler muttered, also getting out of the bed.

Monica went through into the living room, where she was joined by Chandler a minute later. During this minute, she had remembered the flaw in Ross's plan and was quite prepared to panic about it. She hated having to do things with very little notice, as there was never enough time to organise and fully prepare.

'So, you're saying that he wants us to go over to Phoebe's, leave a present "from Santa" and be all amazed later when Phoebe comes running over with a present from Santa?' Chandler summarised after she had explained, air quoting the words 'From Santa.'

'Pretty much,' she said, standing up. 'But we have one problem.'

'We've got no present,' he said, figuring it out for himself. She nodded.

'Actually…' she started, as an idea came to her. 'Where's that ugly bowl your Uncle gave us as a wedding gift?'

'I dunno, you put it somewhere when I couldn't open your cupboard.'

'Oh yeah!' she remembered, dashing into the kitchen. She threw open the cupboard under the sink, got down onto her knees and rummaged amongst the pots and pans. 'Got it!'

Chandler winced at the sight of the ugly bowl. 'She's not going to want that,' he said.

'We haven't got time to be picky,' Monica replied. 'We'll just tell her that Santa's magic elves hand blow a glass bowl for everyone who's in the top 100 of the Nice List or something.'

'Sounds like something she'd believe,' he agreed with a shrug. 'She is the person who is convinced that there is a developing foetus in the centre of the earth that will one day emerge and destroy us all…'

Monica fixed Chandler with a stare for a brief moment. 'We haven't got time for this!' she exclaimed in a higher pitch than usual as she rushed to the ribbon drawer. She pulled out a length of sparkling silver ribbon that was dotted with stars and some deep blue wrapping paper.

In a frenzied state, she hurried over to the kitchen table, got some scissors and sticky tape and began wrapping at super-speed. Chandler just let her get on with it, knowing that the best he could do to help would be to just stay out of her way/

'Get the coats,' she ordered, as she added the finishing touches, curling the ends of the ribbon with her scissors. He grabbed their coats off the hook and chucked hers to her. She caught it deftly with one hand, the other in the china bowl on the counter.

'Chandler,' she said, slightly distractedly. 'Where's the spare key to Phoebe's place?'

'Uh… why- why would I know?' He tried to feign nonchalance, but it was obvious that he knew exactly where it was and that it wasn't good. Monica narrowed her eyebrows.

'Chandler.'

'Oh, okay! I lent it to Joey because he left something important at Phoebe's.'

'What? What was so important that he couldn't just go back and get later?'

'A sandwich.'

'Of course. So, where is the key now?'

Chandler grimaced a little. 'You'll love this… Joey ate it.'

'What!'

'In his sandwich.'

'Joey ate a key in his sandwich?!'

'He put it there for safekeeping!'

'Argh!' Monica cried out, slamming the wrapped bowl (carefully) down onto the counter.

'What are we going to do now?'

'There's only one thing for it.'

'There is now,' Monica retorted. Chandler rolled his eyes, sure that she could see him doing it.

'We'll just have to climb the fire escape,' he told her, turning away from her to open the door.

'And then what?'

'We'll think of something on the way over,' he said simply, taking her arm and moving her over to the open door.

'And it better be good.'

'Mon?'

'What?' She looked up to meet his eyes. He leaned down and kissed her lightly on the lips.

'Merry Christmas,' he smiled, before straightening up and leading the way down the hall.


	3. This Christmas, Nobody Sleeps!

A/N: Shortish, transition chapter really. Not sure when the next one will be up. To my reviewers:

**DrKerryWeaver: **Thanks for reviewing the update- I couldn't resist adding those last two lines!

**bingsrule: **Thanks for leaving your thoughts. As I mentioned in the first chapter though, Ross was fighting his desire to be right and just himself in general for wanting to be a good friend. He's a good guy; he'd choose the right thing in the end. Besides, would Phoebe give up on Santa even if a present didn't turn up?

**writerchic16: **Thanks. Yes, Ross would love the satisfaction of being proved right- once again. Here's the update.

**Drama Queen Johnson: **Thank you. Ross is a good guy overall, we all know that (even Ross knows that). I'm looking forward to writing the C&M mission, random lines of dialogue keep appearing in my head and it should be good!

**nannygirl: **Thanks- the Joey key thing was a sudden stroke of inspiration (I wondered if it might be a little over the top, but…) Here's chapter 3 then!

**Disclaimer: **I think I said this before, but here it is again anyway- _they aren't mine._

'_So here it is, Merry Christmas! Everybody's having fun…' Slade, Merry X'mas Everybody_

Joey had never been very good at going to sleep on Christmas Eve. All of the excitement went to his head and the hype just kept building up, causing him to toss and turn, looking forward to the next day for the presents and the people and great Christmassy feeling- and, of course, the food.

Ah, the food… One of Joey's favourite things about Christmas Day. He could stuff himself full of good turkey and roast potatoes, cranberry sauce and carrots, Christmas pudding and chocolate. Yes, Joey decided with a grin, Christmas sure was a great day. Starting to get uncomfortably hot all tangled up in his bed covers, he looked hopefully at his clock. Just gone two in the morning. It was already Christmas!

He bounded out of bed like an overexcited dog and scrambled to his door, pulling it open and rushing out of it. He flicked on the light switch that was just outside his bedroom door, allowing him to see the festively decorated apartment. His eyes lit up when they fell upon the small Christmas tree by the sofa and the sizable stack of presents scattered beneath it. He grinned to himself again, feeling so giddy he could have clapped.

On his way over to the beautifully wrapped gifts that were just crying out to be opened, he fell over his barca lounger, which had been left in the reclining position. With an almighty thump he crashed to the ground. The floorboards made a hollow sound beneath his weight and for a split second he was worried that he might fall through. But, then he remembered he had fallen in the apartment plenty of times before and that the trusty floorboards could support sudden weight well.

'_What the hell is wrong with you?'_ Rachel hissed, appearing in her bedroom door, rubbing her head. Her hair was all over the place and her baby bump was starting to show under her plain pyjama top. As he stood, Joey backed away from her slightly. Rachel had never been a good morning person.

'Tripped over the chair,' he mumbled, avoiding her steely gaze.

'_It's two in the morning!'_ She said in a harsh whisper. 'What're you doing wandering around?'

'It's Christmas!' he said. 'Come on, Rach- presents!'

Rachel straightened and put her hands on her hips.

'No. No presents until at least seven, that's the rule.'

'You're not my mother,' he told her.

'I might as well be.'

Joey was taken aback for a moment.

'Rachel!' He whined after a few seconds had passed. 'It's Christmas.'

'Only just!' she retorted. 'Besides, Christmas isn't just about presents.'

'I know, I know. It's about baby Jesus,' Joey replied, remembering what his mother had told him ever since he was small.

'Not what I was thinking, but good enough,' Rachel said with a shrug. 'Now, if you don't mind, I'm going back to bed and I don't want to be woken up again.' She turned to return to the cosy, warm nest of her bed but Joey interrupted.

'Play foosball with me?' He asked, looking at her innocently.

'I want to go to sleep, Joe!'

'Me too, but it's too exciting!'

'Go to sleep then. When you wake up- at a decent time- everything will still be here and then you can open presents and we can go to Monica and Chandler's to have a delicious Christmas dinner!'

'Fine, I'll try.'

'Good.'

Rachel returned to the welcome darkness of her bedroom, leaving Joey standing on his own, staring longingly at the presents with his name on. With a sigh, he turned his back to them, falling over the reclined lounger once again.

'Damn chair!' he exclaimed, pulling himself up quickly and glaring at it.

Someone was banging on the floorboards beneath Joey's feet.

'Don't get too frisky up there!' A female voice called.

'Sorry, Mrs Waterman,' Joey called back down. He walked over to his bedroom door and, as he turned the living room light off, he looked fondly at his chair.

'I didn't mean it,' he said softly, pressing the switch and plunging the room into darkness again.

Ross heard a knocking on his bedroom door. Of course, he knew who it was and he was tired of her waking him up by constantly banging any type of wood that stood between them.

'Ross,' Phoebe's voice floated through. He could just see her feet beneath the door, backlit by the light flowing through from the living room. 'Ross, I can't sleep.'

Slowly, Ross crawled out of his bed and opened the door, coming face to face- again- with Phoebe.

'I can't sleep,' she repeated.

'Me neither,' he told her, eyebrows raised manically. 'And you know why?'

'Why?' Phoebe ask, eyes alive with instant curiosity.

'Because somebody keeps knocking my door!'

'I told you that getting the police on them would only anger those kids more, Ross!' Phoebe said, completely missing the point. 'Do you want me to see to them, do you want me to show them a piece of the Pheebs?'

'No, thank you,' he said sarcastically. 'But thanks for offering.'

'Anytime,' she said lightly. Ross spared a moment to roll his eyes in exasperation. As much as he loved Phoebe as one of his best friends, she could be difficult for him to deal with- they were just so different.

'So then, Pheebs, what's the issue this time?' he queried, wanting to get whatever it was over and done with.

'Same thing really, she replied with a noncommittal shrug. 'I can't sleep knowing that any time within the next few hours the one and only Santa Clause will be coming down my chimney…' She paused a moment and then froze, a look of horror etched across her features. To Ross, the effect was comical as he knew what Phoebe had just realised.

'You don't have a chimney, do you, Phoebe?' he asked, trying to keep the jeering tone out of his voice. He wanted to appear sympathetic, he really did. Phoebe nodded slowly, her mouth tight shut.

'Another reason why he can't possibly exist then,' he pointed out.

'More like another crap reason that _you_ think is hard evidence,' Phoebe countered, coming back from her stunned daze. 'No, I've decided I don't need to worry about that, he's _Santa_. He can do anything, what with his magic and all.'

Ross's expression froze. He couldn't comprehend the idea of magic at all- it was ridiculous. 'What kind of magic?' he inquired, wanting to hear Phoebe's latest wacky theory.

'Only Santa knows that… But, I'm guessing he could have a magic key that can open any door… Yeah, and if anyone questions him, he just shows them his Santa license with the official seal and they know it's him. That could get him in anywhere.'

Phoebe, at least, seemed convinced by her own reasoning.

'So, you're that if I dressed up in a decent Santa costume and tried to get into some big fancy house, they'd just let me in because they would that I was Santa?' Ross said.

'_No_, of course not. They'd know that _you're_ not Santa, you're too tanned. Besides, you wouldn't have his license and magic key.'

Ross nodded disbelievingly.

'Right, of course.'

'It's true! Do you think I just made that up?'

Ross looked at her for a long moment. 'I'm going to bed,' he said eventually, turning round and walking back into his room where he crawled back into his bed.

Phoebe watched as he had closed the door in her face.

'Where's the Christmas spirit people?' she asked of the empty room.

A/N: Short filler chapter really. Up next, Monica and Chandler attempt to deliver the present. But, of course, they have no magic key or Santa license…


	4. Santa Claus Is Coming To Town

A/N: Sorry about the wait, but here's the next chapter! I had fun with this and I hope you all enjoy reading it. No idea when the next chapter will be up, I'm really busy with stuff right now, but I will post it as soon as I can. As always thanks to my reviewers:

**Writerchic16: **Thanks for reviewing again! Glad that you found the last chapter funny, that's one of the most important things to me about this fic. Hopefully you like this chapter too. As to Phoebe, well, she loves to rub things in Ross's face.

**Dark Eco Angel: **Thanks. The idea for this fic just came to me one night and the rest followed. It's good to know that you think they're in-character; I've been trying my best! Hope you enjoy Mondler playing Santa (without a license- gasp!)

**DrKerryWeaver: **Thanks for reviewing. I just watched The Holiday Armadillo episode yesterday, it's great- and Chandler had a brilliant Santa outfit. I don't know whether he'd have a license or key though… well, not him specifically ;)

Disclaimer: I thought I told you in the last chapter- _I don't own them!_

'_Does he have a red-nose reindeer?'- Slade, Merry X'Mas Everybody_

Monica drew her warm, black winter cloak tighter around her as she looked up at Phoebe's apartment building. Her blue eyes roamed over the tall brick structure until they pinpointed Phoebe's apartment. Three floors up second from the front of the building. She lowered her head and saw Chandler illuminated in the lamplight as he headed towards the alleyway along the side of the apartment block. She watched him grasp the black, metal railings of the fire escape ladder. He shook it slightly, clashing metal on metal. Monica walked over to his side. He turned to face her, one hand still on the side of the ladder.

'Ladies first,' he gestured with his free hand. Monica handed him the wrapped gift.

'You're very selective about when you use that line, aren't you?' she replied slyly, already starting to climb up the slippery metal rungs. They were icy on her palms and she mentally scolded herself for not thinking to bring gloves.

She reached the first landing point and waited over to the side as Chandler followed her up, the present held awkwardly under his arm.

'Next floor,' he said once he was standing beside her again. They repeated the same pattern for another two sets of ladders, their footsteps metallically clanging with each movement.

'Is this the right one?' he asked her, peering into the smooth, dark glass of the apartment they had ended up outside.

'No, it's the next one over,' she told him, taking charge and leading the way over to the next window. She was about to reach into her pocket to unveil her master plan when Chandler gently grabbed her arm.

'Hang on, let's just check,' he whispered, releasing her arm. He stood by the side of the window so that if anybody looked through it, they wouldn't see him. Monica stood on the opposite side. Then, he rapped on the cool pane with his knuckles. Both of them held their breath for a few seconds, not sure what to expect. Just when they thought it was safe, somebody inside the apartment threw open the curtains.

'Who's there?' the small, round-faced boy in the window asked. His voice was faint through the double glazing, but they both heard him. Chandler's eyes widened, as did Monica's as she realised her mistake.

'Uh… ho, ho, ho!' Chandler said in a deep voice. Through the corner of their eyes, they could just about see the boy's excited little face light up.

'Mommy, mommy!' he called. 'I heard Santa! He's right here!' His voice got fainter as he raced away to tell his mother the exciting news.

'Must be the next one over,' Monica said, quickly pacing over to the next window further down. This time when Chandler knocked, nobody made a noise.

'But can we be sure that it's this apartment?' Chandler asked. 'I'd rather not get arrested for breaking and entering.'

'That's what we're about to do whether it's Phoebe's place or not,' Monica replied. 'Besides, I recognise that weird ornament she has on the windowsill.'

Chandler nodded. 'Right… What now?'

Monica grinned and reached into her coat pocket, before pulling out an ordinary looking hairpin that Chandler could only just make in the darkness.

'I had the idea on the way over,' she said.

'You're going to-,'

'Pick the lock, yes. She has those weird key opening windows, so, why not? You don't have any other ideas, do you?'

'Not-a-one,' Chandler answered in his typical fashion.

Without any further communication, Monica unbent the hairclip with her numb fingers and inserted it into the thin keyhole in the window frame. Chandler watched the look of acute concentration on her face with a mixture of amusement and wonder.

'Mon, can I ask you a question?' he queried, slightly frightened of what might happen to him for interfering her whilst she was so clearly busy with the task at hand.

'Well, you just asked one, but, sure…' she said, not paying too much attention- picking locks was much more fiddle when you were under pressure and had near-frozen hands.

'Okay- how come you know how to pick locks so well?'

'Put it this way,' she started. 'When you're a two hundred and forty pound fourteen year old and your mom puts a lock on anything in the house that contains food, you've got to find some way to eat.'

Chandler nodded along understandingly.

'Can you teach me?' he queried.

'Maybe… There, done,' Monica straightened up, gripped the edge of the window frame and pulled it outwards. She could see right through Phoebe's apartment, past the Christmas tree by her window to the front door. As she was putting the hairclip into her pocket, something suddenly struck her.

'Chandler…' she said slowly. 'Why didn't we just try picking the lock on the door?'

Chandler grimaced and shut his eyes for a second. 'Because we're the Bings,' he answered finally. 'We only do things the hard way.'

Monica accepted this as the best answer he could give and didn't question it any further. What was done was done. Instead of complaining, she brushed Phoebe's weird ceramic fish ornament to the side and stepped gracefully into the apartment, where the festive smell of pine needles immediately washed over her senses. She stepped away from the window, waiting for Chandler and the gift to follow.

Chandler placed Phoebe's present on the windowsill and took a step onto it with a solid thud. He ducked down awkwardly.

'Chandler, why can't you be more stealthy?' She reprimanded, not wanting to wake up any of Phoebe's neighbours and be discovered climbing through her window.

'Me? I couldn't _be_ more stealthy,' Chandler responded, placing his other leg in. 'I'm as stealthy as the stealthiest cat.'

Just as he finished speaking, he slipped forwards and collided with Phoebe's Christmas tree, knocking it other with an almighty crash and jingling rattle of baubles. There was the unmistakable sound of baubles breaking under the combined weight.

'Chandler!' Monica shrieked, remembering to be quiet- the volume of her shriek sounded odd in the silence around them. Chandler jumped back up onto his feet.

'It's okay, cats have nine lives,' he quipped. He stood the tree up again and attempted a smile. He had a few small grazes n his hands and some parallel scratches running across his right cheek. Blood was rising at the surface but not rolling down his flushed face- nothing serious then.

Monica scowled at all the broken bits of bauble and pine needles that scattered the carpet around his feet.

'Just be glad that we can blame your little accident on Santa,' she said. 'And you're lucky that none of Phoebe's presents were flattened.'

'Right. You better tidy this mess up then,' he indicated the smashed decorations with his head.

'What makes you think I'm going to do it?'

Chandler looked taken aback for a brief moment. 'Because you love cleaning,' he said, as if it was common knowledge- which it was, between some people.

'And…?' Monica was determined not to lose this to her husband- or to herself.

'And it's such a mess… Look at this- all pine needles being crushed into the carpet, which someone will than stand in and walk _all over_ the apartment and then, they'll come over to our place and they'll just keep spreading little flakes of leaf. And who knows what they will have walked in on the way over? Think of that all attached to the soles of their shoes, being trodden all over the place… All over your _pristine_ apartment.'

'Alright, alright I have to get rid of that abomination right now!' Monica squealed. She had fought her compulsion to clean throughout most of Chandler's short speech but he knew just how to get through to her. The mess had to go. 'I'll get Phoebe's cleaning stuff, you… You do whatever it is you do.'

'Great, Home Alone is on some obscure channel right now,' he said, picking up the television remote from the side table and flicking it on. 'I watch this every Christmas, that's what _I_ do.'

Ignoring him and his chuckling at the old Christmas favourite, Monica got on with her cleaning duties until the entire apartment was in sparkling condition. She was tired after all of her hard work and- after carefully placing the fake Santa gift under the tree- she collapsed onto the sofa next to Chandler. Not long later, she was leaning up against him, fast asleep. Having watched most of Home Alone 2 and deciding the original was far better, Chandler realised the time. It was coming up to half past six.

He was just about to wake Monica up when he heard the distinctive sound of a key in the door. It was too late.


	5. Christmas Is All Around

A/N: I'm sorry this wasn't completed before Christmas! I've just been so busy with exams, coursework, family and Christmas in general! But, I have now finished the penultimate chapter and here it is, just for you. I hope to get the final chapter up as soon as possible (before I go back to school hopefully). Sorry for the inconsistent updates! Hope you all had a good Christmas/ Hanukah/ Kwanza or just a good couple of weeks recently!

**BackForBreakfast: **Thanks for reviewing the last chapter! I have more ideas on the way, so I look forward to hearing from you (both in your fic and possible reviews!)

**Disclaimer:** Despite Christmas having been and gone, I still don't own them. And I don't technically own Phoebe's dream either, that is based upon the music video for The Killers 'Don't Shoot Me Santa.' Oh and the chapter title is a song from the film Love Actually.

….….

Phoebe opened her eyes suddenly, excitement welling up in her stomach. An uncontrolled grin found its way across her face and she sat up in her bed. The covers had half fallen off the bed and in her rush to get up, they fell into a pile on the floor, with Phoebe still wrapped up in them. She wormed her way out of them at an incredible pace, leaving them on the floor as she stood.

'The time,' she muttered, frantically searching the room, squinting her eyes in the darkness. 'What's the time? Where's the time in this room? Clock? No clock? What kind of system are you running here Ross? ROSS!'

She dashed to the door and threw it open, her hair half falling out of the black hair bobble she had in. She went straight for Ross's door and raised her fist to start banging on it once again, but just as she brought her clenched fist down, Ross opened the door and she thumped him hard on the chest.

'OW!' he shrieked, placing his hand over the patch she had whacked. 'Phoebe!' he said indignantly. 'What're you doing?'

Phoebe grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. 'The time! I need to know what the time is!' she said, not keeping her voice at a respectable indoor tone.

'Oh, _that's_ what you were shouting. I thought you were yelling "Mine! Mine!" And, well… a word that sounds like clock.'

'You and your dirty mind… No. What's the time? I NEED ANSWERS!'

'Okay, calm down, Pheebs,' Ross said, looking over her shoulder at the clock on his DVD player. 'It's just gone six.'

'In the morning?'

'No, Pheebs, at night,' he answered sarcastically.

'WHAT? I slept through Christmas day?' Phoebe cried, thunderstruck. Ross could either have laughed or cried at the stunned expression on her face. Instead, he struggled to retain calm features.

Ross looked at her, still just managing to keep a straight face. 'Phoebe, it _is _six in the morning… On Christmas Day.'

'It is? Thank all my gods!… You're a nasty liar.'

'Phoebe, I… Never mind.'

'Right, so six in the morning, Christmas Day. By my reasoning-,'

'Pah, reasoning…' Ross mumbled so that she couldn't hear him.

'- Santa should have covered New York and most of Central America and is just finishing off in California. Right. You know what that means, Ross?'

'That you're crazy?' He offered unhelpfully.

'For a scientist, you really are slow. No, Ross, Santa has been to my apartment for the first time in years! We have to go now!'

'Can't we go at a more reasonable hour, like ten?'

'No, we cannot. Let's go now, move your butt.'

'Hang on, I want to get dressed.'

'Fine, fine… Just hurry up!' Phoebe said with a threatening look.

Ross turned back into his dark bedroom and closed the door in her face, thinking he was about to get a few moments of quiet. But Phoebe, having no clothes of her own to change into, starting telling him all about her dream.

'So, I was tied to a chair with tinsel, in the middle of the desert and there was this evil looking Santa doing some sort of cruel puppet show. Then, he started to dig a hole and I realised that it was a grave for me! So I was like, oh crap. And I couldn't get out of the tinsel trap and I was squirming and trying to bite it off, but tinsel doesn't taste nice and it's really itchy. Then, I saw these three random Christmas trees start moving and I thought "Why the hell are there Christmas trees in the desert?" Then I wondered why they were moving. So, when the evil Santa had his back turned, the trees turned around and you, Joey and Chandler were attached to the back of them and you all ran over and rescued me. Then the Santa started chasing us and we jumped into the back of Monica's Porsche and drove away,' Phoebe explained breathlessly. Towards the end of her little anecdote, Ross opened the door of his bedroom and watched her talk disbelievingly, a winter coat folded over his arm. 'For a little while, I thought I was having some kind of prophetic vision, like I was seeing my future for today or something. Then I realised that you and Chandler would be too scared to rescue me. Joey would be my knight in shining armour, but you two… Plus, Santa isn't evil and _please_, he is not ginger! And that's why my dream can't be real.'

Ross stared at her for a couple of seconds and blinked slowly. He ran his tongue slowly over his lower lip before taking a deep breath. He stepped into the living room and closed the door behind him.

With his hand still on the door handle behind his back he said; 'Let's go.'

……

By Joey's reckoning, quarter to six in the morning was a reasonable time to wake up on Christmas day, whether Rachel liked it or not. As he bounded out of his small bedroom for the second time that morning and turned on the living room light, he was surprised to discover Rachel already sat in the black lounger, a hand on her noticeable baby bump. She was staring pensively at the black television screen.

'It's more interesting if you turn it on,' he said in one of his rare moments of smart comments. Rachel looked up at him.

'Not if you're stuck watching teleshopping try to desperately get rid of their last special festive foot massagers for thirty bucks,' she replied.

'I thought you said no getting up until seven?' he asked.

'I couldn't go back to sleep after you woke me up. I started getting some really early morning sickness.'

'Oh, sorry.'

Rachel just shrugged, staring back at the television screen where her own face was reflected in a grey colour that made her look gaunt and ill. Joey stared at her awkwardly for a moment before remembering his previous excitement.

'I know it's not seven, but, can I open presents now?' he pleaded like an innocent little boy.

'Whatever, Joe, I'm not your mother.'

''S'not what you said earlier,' he muttered, walking behind where she was sat to where the presents were stacked.

'I heard that!' she snapped.

Joey grinned and grabbed the biggest present, causing a few smaller, brightly wrapped packages to tumble off the couch onto the floor. He sat down on the floor in front of the coffee table, clutching the cubical object which rattled slightly as he moved. Without a moment's s pause or consideration to read the snowman shaped label, he ripped through the blue and silver snowflake wrapping paper. His face fell as he saw what was in the box. He searched through the thoroughly destroyed pile or paper to find the label, which he then read.

'Why has Monica given me a water purifier?' he questioned aloud.

Rachel laughed. 'She probably thinks it's a great gift.'

'Right… What does it do?'

'Purifies water.'

'Why do I need to do that? This is America!'

'I've no idea.'

Rachel swung the chair round on its swivelling base to look at Joey who was now examining the water purifier box and shaking it. She smiled to herself, her hand still resting on her stomach. Joey reached for the next biggest present.

'I know it sounds weird, but I feel like this is my first Christmas with the baby,' she said, not really knowing if Joey was listening to her. He stopped his manic present opening and looked up at her, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

'And I feel like this is my first Christmas with you, baby,' he said in his deep, chat-up voice.

'Joey!'

'Ah, I'm sorry, Rach, it's an instinct!'

'Do you always hit on pregnant women?' Rachel asked disbelievingly, not really sure If she wanted to hear the answer.

'Not usually,' he said hurriedly. 'I don't know! It's the pregnant lady glow!'

Rachel sighed irritably. 'I'd rather you didn't.'

Joey was no longer listening, now distracted by the big jar of cookies he had just unwrapped. He instantly fished a hand in and took a cookie out, biting a huge chocolate-chip chunk and chewing noisily.

''S'good,' he said, spewing out crumbs onto the carpet. 'Thanks, Rach.'

'You're welcome.'

He finished the cookie and swallowed, satisfied. His hand went back for the next present. He was about to tear into the paper once again, but just as he found the untidily wrapped corner, he stopped and stared at it.

'Hang on a minute…' he mumbled to himself. 'This is Phoebe's! Rachel, we need to go to Phoebe's now, I forgot to give her her present!'

'Why do we have to go now?' Rachel asked sleepily.

'She'll hate me for forgetting otherwise! And I don't want to get on the wrong side of Phoebe Buffay's temper!'

'Okay, so why do I have to go?'

'Because you know how I was supposed to give our presents to Phoebe from both us…'

'Joey,' Rachel growled.

Joey grabbed a red-wrapped package form behind him. 'I forgot to give her yours too, Rachel!'

Rachel stood up and sighed. 'Fine, we'll both go, Phoebe's probably been awake for hours anyway. I just want to get dressed first.'

'I'll find our spare key to Phoebe's, just in case.'

'I thought you ate it?'

'No, I ate Chandler's.'

'Oh yeah… where do you keep our key then?'

'In a very safe place,' he said dramatically, walking over and opening the fridge door. He pulled out a sandwich, then lifted the top layer of bread to reveal a bronze key.

'Some people never learn…' Rachel muttered to herself as she walked to her room.

Moments later, when both were dressed up warm, they left for Phoebe's apartment.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed. Next time- the final chapter!


	6. And to all, a Good Night!

A/N: The final chapter is here! Hot off the press. And a little reader challenge- how many Friends episode references can you spot in this chapter? I know there are a few. As always, thanks to my reviewers;

**DrKerryWeaver: **Thanks for reviewing again! I'm glad you feel that way, that's exactly what I'm trying to achieve by writing this.

**tennisgirlxoxo: **Thanks for the review. I love hearing people's feedback; especially when they find the fic funny. I now appreciate the Friends writers more because it's hard to keep coming up with the jokes.

**nannygirl: **Thanks again! Another little key reference in this one, which you should enjoy- particularly if you spot the episode reference tied in with it!

Disclaimer: For the last time, no, I don't own them.

……

Quickly, yet as quietly as he could, Chandler lay down on the couch, pulling the still sleeping Monica with him. He managed to get down just in time, as the door swung open mere seconds later and he and Monica were hidden by the back of the green couch.

'Joey!' a familiar voice scolded in a hushed tone. 'You were supposed to knock and then use the key if Phoebe didn't answer!'

'Sorry, Rachel. I had the key in my hand so I just used it,' Joey replied, also keeping his voice low, although it was too late to be worried about wakening any sleeping occupants. Chandler heard one of the pair flick the light on as he wondered why they were there at such a time. He didn't think that Ross would have called them to help too.

'Phoebe,' Rachel called, her voice at its normal level. 'Pheebs? Are you here?' Chandler heard her footsteps as she crossed to Phoebe's bedroom and knocked gently on the closed door. Silence for a moment as all waited for a reply, Chandler knowing not to expect one. Monica was now awake and Chandler could tell that she was assessing the situation.

'Wonder where she is,' Rachel said, walking back over to Joey, who was still stood by the door. Chandler took this moment to make his and Monica's presence known. He sat up.

'Good morning,' he said brightly. Rachel leapt back, a hand placed dramatically over her chest.

'Dude, what're you doing here?' Joey asked, not as shocked as Rachel, who was taking deep breaths to get over the sudden fright.

'You scared the life out of me!' Rachel said, looking a little angry.

Monica sat up at the opposite end of the couch, so she could be seen by the other two.

'Monica?' Rachel said. 'What're you doing here?'

'I could ask you two the same question,' she replied, brushing a bit of hair out of her eyes.

'Nu-uh, we asked first!' Joey jumped in.

'I was watching Home Alone 1 and 2,' Chandler explained.

'They were both on?' Joey exclaimed, surprised.

'Yep.'

'Aw, I missed it!'

'I taped them both,' Chandler told him.

'Good. I'm not bothered about the second one, the first one's best.'

'I know!' Chandler agreed. 'With the kid's big plan and-,'

'Would you two please stop talking about a kid's movie?' Monica demanded, cutting Chandler off.

'It's a family film,' Chandler mumbled.

'Seriously you guys, why are you here? It can't just be because Chandler wanted to watch Home Alone,' Rachel said.

'Isn't that why you're here?' Chandler feigned surprise, raising his eyebrows and looking between Joey and Rachel.

Monica grimaced slightly at Chandler's unnecessary sarcasm. She shoved him a little and he got the message. She turned to Rachel.

'Ross called us,' she started, 'about Phoebe. You know how she believes in Santa?' Rachel and Joey nodded.

'Wish I still could,' Joey said sadly, looking at his feet. 'Stupid growing up had to ruin it all.'

'Yeah, so he said that Phoebe was at his place,' Monica continued, not really acknowledging Joey's comment. 'And she's convinced that Santa will come if she's not at home, for whatever reasons. So, me and Chandler had to come over and deliver a fake Christmas present… from Santa.'

'Riiiight,' Rachel said at the odd explanation. 'We're just here because Joey forgot to give Phoebe her presents from us.' She held out to small, wrapped gifts for Monica and Chandler to see.

Joey shuffled his feet, avoiding everybody's gaze as Monica and Chandler made sounds of realisation. He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck.

'Rachel?' he said.

'Yeah?'

'I might have- just maybe… forgotten to give presents to anybody…. At all.'

'Joey! Next year, I'm not gonna bother asking you to do anything,' Rachel said exasperatedly. She sat on the edge of the chair with Monica and Chandler. 'Hang on, why are you two still here? You brought the present over, your job's done.'

'We had a few… issues,' Monica said lightly.

'One being that Joey is currently digesting our key,' Chandler added. 'No knowing how long that will take.'

'Seven years isn't it?' Joey suggested unsurely.

'That's gum.'

'Phoebe told me that it took seven years to digest _gun_.'

'Phoebe's told us all a lot of things, Joe.'

Joey shrugged him off with a slight nod of agreement.

'We better get out of here then,' Monica said. 'Phoebe could be on her way over any minute now and we don't want her to find us here.'

'You're right,' Rachel said. She stepped over to the newly set-up Christmas tree and carefully placed hers and Joey's presents beneath its spindly branches. She was just about to lead the other three out of Phoebe's apartment when she heard footsteps and faint but familiar voices from the other end of the hall. She turned her back to the door and mouthed 'They're coming!'

'Hide!' Monica cried in a loud whisper, before dashing into Phoebe's bedroom.

For a few panicked seconds, hushed chaos ensued. Joey followed Monica's lead into Phoebe's bedroom and Rachel paced back and forth between opposite ends of the room as she tried to think of a hiding place. Chandler simply rolled off the couch and managed to worm his way beneath it, in a scrunched ball to prevent his feet showing. Phoebe and Ross's voices were now coming more clearly towards them.

Rachel threw caution to the wind and hurried into Phoebe's kitchen, throwing open the biggest cupboard she could find. She threw a couple of empty cracker boxes out and squeezed in, her petite form aiding her.

In the bedroom, Monica had done the most obvious thing and practically thrown herself beneath Phoebe's messy bed, finding herself horrified and the clutter that had accumulated there (particularly what looked like a voodoo doll of Big Bird). Joey had opened Phoebe's wardrobe and stepped in, after hesitating for a moment; he was scared of the menacing looking waist-height plush Santa that Phoebe had stowed away there.

It was silent for around a second and then, the sound of Phoebe's key in the door. Ross sighed impatiently. Then, the lock clicked and the pair entered. Ross closed the door behind him.

'This is it then,' Phoebe said to Ross. 'Time to see who's really right.'

'Mmhmm,' Ross nodded distractedly, knowing that he had already given away his chance of proving himself to be right. Phoebe was about to go and investigate under the tree when a petrified scream tore through the apartment.

Rachel tumbled out of her cupboard hiding place and leapt into a standing position.

'_RACHEL?'_ Ross and Phoebe yelped simultaneously, thunderstruck by her scream and sudden appearance… out of Phoebe's kitchen cupboard.

'Sp-spider!' was all that Rachel could stutter in reply. 'Huge spider!'

'Why are people so afraid of Suzie?' Phoebe pondered to herself.

'What the hell are you doing in Phoebe's cupboard?' Ross said, having overcome the shock.

'Why are you even in my apartment?' Phoebe said, walking up to the kitchen counter to face Rachel.

'I-uh… Uh-,' Rachel tried to come up with a decent explanation, but was interrupted by another, more masculine scream accompanied by a tinny, muffled rendition of 'Jingle Bells.'

Joey bashfully slouched into the main living area, his hands in his pockets.

'Thought it was a possessed Santa,' he mumbled. 'I stood on its foot and it started singing.'

'Because it says _"Press here"_!' Phoebe said, getting more and more exasperated. 'It's supposed to do that! And why, _why_ are you both here?'

Beneath the couch, Chandler rolled his eyes, before rolling his body out of its hiding place.

'Boo,' he said dryly as he stood, wiping carpet fluff off his trousers. The scream elicited from Rachel was completely unnecessary- especially as she knew that Chandler had been hid there.

'_Chandler?'_ Ross said.

'WHAT ARE YOU ALL DOING IN MY APARTMENT?' Phoebe yelled. Everybody cringed at her raised tone and backed away a little.

'Uh, maybe that can wait,' Chandler suggested.

'Yeah, besides, Monica is still hiding here somewhere,' Joey added.

'Fine. But I want to know what's going on as soon as she's here,' Phoebe said. This was getting a little weird even for her. 'Monica, you can come out now,' she called.

Nothing. Not a sound as everybody stood in silence waiting for Monica's reappearance.

'Mon, it's not a competition,' Ross said.

Still nothing.

'Okay. Even if it was a competition, you won ages ago Mon,' Chandler reasoned, knowing exactly how Monica's mind worked in such a situation.

'I know!' came her distinct cry from the bedroom. A moment later she was stood with the rest of the group in Phoebe's living room. 'That was too easy,' she said, referring to her 'victory'.

'_Now_, will someone please tell me what's going on here?' Phoebe asked.

'Um, alright,' Rachel said. 'Joey?' She looked to Joey to come up with an explanation.

'Yeah, but I really think that Monica would explain it better,' Joey said, now turning to Monica for a fake reason for their being there.

Monica's eyes widened. 'Well, uh, it was Chandler's idea really,' she told Phoebe, shifting the responsibility to the last available person; who was probably the best liar anyway.

'Thank you Monica,' he said sarcastically. 'Here's the thing Pheebs… Um, Ross called us all to tell us your theory-,'

'Phoery,' Phoebe interrupted. Everybody looked at her blankly. She sighed impatiently. Because I'm Phoebe and I have theories… I call them Pheories.'

'Oh right.'

'Of course.'

'_Anyway_,' Chandler continued, clapping his hands together. 'Ross called us and said about how you thought Santa would come to your place. And I have to say, Phoebe, that Doctor Geller here was a little sceptical. So, that's why we're here… to see what Father Christmas brought you,' Chandler finished the last sentence as though even eh thought it was a lousy lie- which it was.

'That's weird,' Phoebe said bluntly.

'Aren't you just glad that all of your best friends are here with you on Christmas day?' Monica asked, trying to distract her away from thinking about Chandler's cover story too much.

'That's nice and all,' Phoebe said. 'But a little too cheesy for my liking… We're all going off the point here anyway. It's a bit creepy that you all came and waited in my apartment for me just to see what a fat guy in a red suit left below my Christmas tree. Frankly, I don't care too much about that. Now, has he been?'

There was no question about what she meant. With a smile, Monica indicated the gift she and Chandler had placed at the foot of Phoebe's tree. Phoebe's face split into an eager grin.

She bounded across the room, swept the present into her arms and carefully walked back to where the others waited. Like Joey, she didn't bother reading the label before ripping into the festive paper. Having dutifully shredded the paper to reveal Monica and Chandler's unwanted wedding gift, she held it up to admire it.

'I heard that the elves hand blow those bowls for people who are in the top 100 of the Nice list,' Monica told Phoebe the story she had come up with earlier.

'Aw, I want one!' Joey said, eyeing the bowl jealously.

'_Not real, Joe,' _Chandler mouthed to him as Phoebe admired the bowl.

'I love it!' Phoebe exclaimed, holding it up to the light. She placed the bowl on her counter and then searched through the pile of torn-up wrapping paper until she found the label that Monica had written mere hours ago.

She shoved the label under Ross's nose, so that he could clearly read the words 'To Phoebe- Merry Christmas- love Santa.'

'I told you so,' she smirked, clearly enjoying this.

Ross just held his tongue.

……

A/N: Well, there you have it. The end at last! I hope you all enjoyed reading this, I know I had fun writing it!


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